Dementors And Crumpets
by AWMPerry
Summary: A short speculative fic on exactly what it's like inside Azkaban... and what Dementors do on their tea breaks. They probably like custard creams.Rated T for minor language.


**_Of Dementors And Crumpets_**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This one-shot fic was based on a conversation on the FictionAlley forums where we ended up discussing whether or not the Dementors might have a tea room. Concluding that they did, I couldn't resist writing this. All Harry Potter-related trademarks and concepts are property of J K Rowling and her agents, no copyright infringement or challenge is intended.

Thanks to Essy for the tearoom idea and Nineveh for the idea of Azkaban being all sterile, white and tiled rather than a foetid cesspit.

* * *

There. 

There, dear reader, do you see it?

Yes, just appearing out of the mist, right there. That dark isle, those grim stone walls…

That's Azkaban.

It's the wizarding world's top security prison, for little wizards who have been very, very naughty.

Let's go inside, shall we? Don't worry, the warden's a friend of mine, he'll hold the door for us.

Well, I think he will, anyway.

Or at least I hope he will.

Aaaah… Look at that. The cabbage-green tiled walls, the oddly stained concrete floor, the blue-burning torches along the walls… picturesque, isn't it? A sort of asylum chic…

Anyway, come on. Don't bother about that door, you don't want to go in there, just trust me on this. What? Oh, that one… yeah, that's the Kissing Room… you probably don't want to go in there, either.

Ah, now this is more interesting. If you peek in there, you'll see one of the cell blocks. A lot brighter than you expected, isn't it? All those white tiles, the bright lights… Nobody needs to be afraid of the dark here, they never switch the lights off. I guess it's supposed to throw off people's body clocks.

What's what? Oh, the mumbling? And the moaning, I see… no, don't worry, that's just the prisoners. They sometimes do that after a few months. Yes, or they start singing Swannee River, like that one. Or Scotland The Brave, yes, but come along, there are more interesting things to see. We're going to the tea room – want a biccie?

Oh… you might want to be quiet. There are Dementors lurking all over the place here, nasty creatures. I told you to wrap up warm, didn't I? Anyway, yeah, we're going to the tea room. Now, I want you to stay very quiet, and stay tucked up under your cloak. They can get a bit tetchy if they notice us.

What do you mean, "Why do they have a tea room"? They're not slaves, you know – everybody needs a break now and then.

"Bloody hell," said Wstfgl as he drifted into the tea room. "I could murder a cuppa."

"Long day?" asked Yxgrog the intern, fetching the kettle.

"Ooh yeah." He sank into a chair, although his posterior seemed to hover half an inch above the wood. "First I had to watch three snogs this morning and I didn't even get a taste. Good souls they were, too, nice and blue. Then I go into D Block, and would you believe it, one of the prisoners manages to summon a bloody great Patronus!"

"A Patronus? But… the magic inhibitors?"

"Oh, it turned out Krzzzk had dropped a pair of cufflinks down the back of it. They got caught up in the charms, and when he reached in to get them… well, the silly twit didn't think to pull up the sleeve of his robe." He leaned forward, getting into his story. "Anyway, long story short, they eventually got most of him out of the gubbins and got the wards up again, but not before we had to deploy a dozen wizards down to the block to dissipate a bloody eighteen-foot chimpanzee. A _chimpanzee_, for Vold's sake!" He sat back again, gratefully accepting the mug thrust towards him. "Heh. 'Don't have to be a soul-sucking demi-demon to work here'… That one never gets old, does it?"

"Never," chuckled Yxgrog. He raised his mug, showing off the 'World's Best Son' legend on the side. "Got this from me mam last week. Said she was glad I'd finally got a real job. Dunno why, I enjoyed the work at McDonalds."

The door opened and another couple of Dementors floated in, pulling on new, clean(-ish) gowns.

"Clean robes, lads?" Wstfgl inquired, raising a shadow which presumably corresponded to his eyebrow. "What have you been up to?"

"Had to change out of the other ones. Got covered in ichor."

"Yeah. We were trying to put Krzzzk back together, but we couldn't find all the bits."

"Bugger, eh?" Yxgrog brought them a couple of jolly little mugs bearing the slogan 'Eagles May Soar, But Weasels Don't Get Sucked Into Jet Engines'. "Yeah, I hate it when that happens. I remember when I was a kid, I got this Airfix kit, right?"

"Oh, here we go," grinned Grknz, the taller of the two newcomers, sipping his cocoa.

"Yeah, I had a 1:72 replica of the Hogwarts Express, and I'd almost finished painting it when I realised I'd somehow left all the wheels inside the engine."

"Aaaw, shame…" said the shorter, an ancient and bearded Dementor by the name of Mastawaxl The Grim. "So what did you do?"

"Well, there wasn't much I could do, was there? I chucked it out of the window and went down to the Azkaban recruiting office."

"Fair enough," nodded Wstfgl, tapping his temple with his forefinger in the age-old 'he's nuts' gesture. He rose and hovered over to the fridge. "Aaaw, bloody hell…"

"What?"

"Some absolute _arse_ has finished all the sodding milk!"

"Well, what about that carton down at the bottom?"

"I can't drink that! It's practically _fresh_, hasn't even got a decent crust on it yet!"

A collective shudder of disgust passed across the assembled Dementors.

"Urgh." Grknz looked queasy. "Why would anyone want to drink uncrusted milk?"

"The humans do," Yxgrog interjected. "Don't know why, though, it's only any good for cocoa."

"You…" Grknz stared down at his cocoa, the darkness under his cowl starting to turn vaguely green. "You… um… you made this with _fresh _milk?"

"Well… maybe slightly fresh…"

"Oh, bollocks." Grknz leapt to his feet and rushed to the door, holding his mouth. "I'll be in the bogs."

"What are you trying to do, lad?" Mastawaxl asked with a chuckle. "Poison us?"

"No, I promise…" muttered Yxgrog miserably. "I just thought… well, see, me mam used to make cocoa with fresh milk, y'see, she said it was the only thing it was good for, apart from rearing humans."

"Don't worry, lad. He'll be all right, you'll see. Got any biccies?"

Yxgrog was just drifting towards the biscuit tin when the door was flung open and a tall, intimidating Dementor in a pinstripe gown billowed in.

"Come on, gents, less slacking. We've had an escape, we're supposed to deploy to Hogwarts to nick prisoner 684558432 Black."

"An escape?" Wstfgl sounded surprised. "How did he get out?"

"We… er… we're not sure yet," the manager replied evasively. "Come on, no time to mess about, we're moving in ten minutes."

As they bustled out, he could be heard asking nonchalantly: "Um… anyone… anyone seen a big black dog?"

Oh, don't stand there gawping. They get escapes all the time.

Well, OK, the last one was in 1452.

Yes, we probably ought to be going. But on an empty stomach?

Oh, go on. Have a cuppa.


End file.
